Date: Sat, 26 Dec 2020 09:04:48 +0000 (UTC) From: Johan Pryde Subject: Dad's Hard Christmas Cock (Gay Incest) Dad's Hard Christmas Cock This story is fiction (well, except for the part about me fantasizing about dad, that much is true.) I went to Nifty looking for a hot story about a son giving his dad a Christmas blow job and didn't find one so decided I would write one myself. I love to hear from readers. Email me at BlowJoey140@yahoo.com At 9, I had already been obsessed with my dad for about two years. His beard, his hairy body. I would try to get glimpses of his cock but rarely could. I sometimes flirted with him almost openly and on more than one occasion, I thought he was flirting back. But I would get scared and worry that he would hate me. So I just kept fantasizing. I read stories on Nifty constantly, adult youth and gay incest being my favorite categories. I couldn't cum yet but my boycock would get stiff and I would rub it, imagining myself as the son or little boy in each story I read. I spent hours fantasizing that I was sucking dad's cock, licking his balls, rimming his ass, eating his cum. I fantasized about him fucking my mouth, sometimes gently, sometimes rough, while fingering my ass, getting me ready to take his hard cock. I found the stories where the son was an eager slut the hottest, stroking myself to dry orgasm after dry orgasm to tales of sons going down on their dads, seducing their dads, riding their dad's cocks, little boys French kissing their dad greedily before sucking him off and rimming him out. The other stories that turned me on were where the dad was rough with his boy, fucking his face, gagging him with his cock, pounding his ass. My fantasies became more and more intense and raunchy. Dad spitting on my face and calling me his little fag before forcing his cock in my throat. Dad kissing me hard and then shoving me down onto his cock, pounding my face while tears rolled down my cheeks and my throat slime and snot covered his crotch, dad pissing on my face and shoving me to the ground, making me kiss his feet and tell him what a whore I am. The two thoughts eventually combined and my fantasies became about me being an eager whore for dad, begging him to use me hard. It honestly became my only hobby. Gone were video games and watching Netflix. As soon as I could be alone on the computer, I would be on Nifty, reading stories, fantasizing about Dad. When Christmas came, there was only one thing I really wanted but I had dutifully provided a list. When my mother first insisted I wrote the list, I took a piece of paper and boldly wrote "I want dad to fuck my little mouth and make me gag on his had cock until he cums," "For Christmas, I want to beg dad to spit on my face and call me a whore," "For Christmas, I want dad to use my cocksucking mouth as his urinal," but quickly balled it up and threw it away. I provided a more reasonable list---video games I probably wouldn't play, a couple of books I probably wouldn't read, clothes I would eagerly rip off to sit at the computer touching my little boycock and thinking about dad. Christmas morning, we opened presents in front of the tree. Dad wore only a bathrobe and showed no intention of getting dressed, even when mom fussed at him about it a bit. I couldn't tell for sure, but I thought he was naked under the robe. He would sit with his legs just spread enough that I could see the pale skin of his thighs, covered in dark hair. I didn't want to stare too much because I didn't want to be caught. Once he did catch me looking, caught my eye and gave me a smile. Mom worked at a hospital so had to go in for the evening shift to start work at 3 PM. As soon as soon as the car pulled out of the driveway, dad stood up. His robe was loose now, hanging open to his waist, showing off his hairy chest and I could even see the top of his pubic hair. My boycock was so hard it ached. He walked over to me and I could smell him. I was still sitting on the floor and I wanted to climb onto my knees and plant my face in his crotch. My heart was pounding. He handed me a small box, wrapped in plain paper with a bow on it. "Another gift," he said, his eyes boring holes into mine. I took it from him, my hands shaking. I could tell something was about to happen. "Open it," he said, taking another step closer. His cock was inches away from my face. He reached out, putting his hands on my head, gently running his fingers through my hair. I felt him pull me slightly closer, his cock now right in front of me. I fumbled with the paper but finally managed to tear it off. I opened the small box inside. There was a folded piece of paper and a small, brown, glass bottle. "Read it," he said. I unrolled the note and it was the lusty Christmas list I had written and then thrown away. I was terrified and aroused at the same time, unsure what the bottle was and why dad had given this list. I could see that his cock was hard now, making his robe stand out. "Open that bottle, hold it up to your nose, and take a deep whiff and then put the top back on," dad said. "Dad, I...." he cut me off by shoving two of his fingers in my mouth, one hand still on my head. "Do it," he said, after fucking my mouth with his fingers for a short time. He pulled the fingers back out of my mouth. I opened the bottle as instructed and held it up to my nose, taking a deep breath. "Deeper," he said. I inhaled again. "Now hold it," His hand was still on my head, gently running his fingers through my hair. I felt a wave of lust come over me. Whatever was in that bottle, which dad later explained were poppers, literally blew my mind. All I could think about was my dad and his cock. "Dad," I moaned, and started pulling at the ties of his robe, trying to free his hard cock. Dad sneered at me. "Now, let's give you what you really want for Christmas." I pulled the robe open and dad shrugged it off, standing in front of me completely nude. In a different mind set, I would have admired the thatch of dark fur that covered his chest and belly but the poppers had completely taken me over. I dove forward, forcing my mouth over dad's cock, shoving it into my throat. I gagged and coughed, nearly puking. "Choke on my cock, my little faggot," dad said huskily. I moaned and had a dry orgasm before gagging myself on his cock again. "Fuck yes, my 9 year old son having a dry orgasm while he chokes himself on my cock," dad moaned. His hands tightened in my hair and he took over, forcing my mouth up and down on his cock. I gagged and choked, drool coming out of my nose and mouth. "Do you like that, you little whore? Do you like choking on the cock that made you?" He pulled me off his cock and I sputtered, "Yes, dad. Please, don't stop!" "Fuck yes, I am going to make a mess on your cocksucking face," he said. He scooped me up into his arms and carried me to the sofa. He kissed me hard and passionately before laying me down on my back, my legs upright against the back of the sofa while my head hung over the edge. He paused a moment. "I love you son," he said, tenderly stroking my cheek. "I love you, too, dad," I answered. He smiled sweetly and then spit on my face. "Choke on my hard daddy cock," he snarled and then shoved his cock into my mouth, hard, making me sputter and gag. Saliva and snot ran out of my nose as he pounded, shoving his cock hard into my throat again and again, backing out just enough for me to take a hasty breath. He must have fucked my mouth like that for five minutes, my body trembling and shaking. He pulled back, admiring the snot, throat slime, and spit running down my face. "So beautiful," he said, softly. "My beautiful little boy. I love you so much." He put his hand under my head and lifted it up. He held the bottle of poppers up to my nose and told me to inhale again. I did and felt that same wave of overwhelming desire take me. "Please fuck my throat some more dad," I begged. "Please fuck it hard and make me choke for you." "That's my good little whore," he said and obliged me, shoving his cock back into my mouth and forcing his way into my throat. He rested one hand on my chest and wrapped the other around my throat, thrusting hard into me. I reached up, eagerly grabbing onto his ass trying to pull him deeper into my throat. That seemed to push him over the edge. "Oh fuck, you are such a fantastic greedy cockwhore," me moaned and his cock exploded. He pulled back so I could take it in my mouth and taste it. Two, three, four, five, shots of hot cum as his cock pulsed in my mouth. He kept up a stream of dirty talk the entire time. "Eat my cum, you slut. Choke on my load. Be a good cocksucking whore." I moaned and shuddered, having another dry orgasm as I eagerly ate his cum, swallowing as fast as I could. Some of it still leaked out of the corners of my mouth, adding to the snot, throat slime, and spit that already covered my face. Dad pulled out of my mouth and told me to sit up. I did and turned to face him. "Merry Christmas, son," he said, wiping his hand roughly over my face, smearing his cum with my snot and spit. "Thank you, dad," I said, my voice hoarse from the pounding it had just taken. "It was just what I wanted."